#apologies for the tone but of all the things to be misinterpreted about this one peeved me a lot

[comicaurora]

a while ago u talked abt how people were shipping 2 characters (one of which didnt have a name at the time) who were brothers.... that wasnt about like, crustables was it? every once in a while i remember it and im like. huh. cuz i dont think ud have the stuff going on in the past chap if so but still i wanna check lol

I said siblings and it was about Tess and Erin and I need everyone to stop biting each other about it for fuck's sake

[dustyrkives]

Satisfied with your care // A. Wong.

I know I might misinterpret things because I'm new to the fandom, but please, hear me out on this one🫣

Notes: Physician reader, hierarchy of doctors, !njuries, age-gap between the reader and Ada (7 years), female reader, Ada finding you amusing and interesting, size difference (my jaw dropped when I found out she's 5'7), Ada might develop an obsession for you and your notes but I think it's cute - *train passes by*. That's pretty much it, I think.

Not proofread, sorry :D

And feedback is appreciated <3

Thinking about Ada visiting the organization's medcenter to tend to her serious injuries before she either takes her leave or prepares for another mission.

That's when she set her eyes on you, the young mentee of her organization's physician.

At first, she finds you insignificant, always by your mentor's beck and call, standing behind the scenes while the doctor tends to her wounds before dismissing her with painkillers and reminders for her to change her bandages to avoid irritation and infection until several months later after returning from another mission, and it just so happens that the attending physician is busy with the other injured agents - which leaves her with you: a Fellow.

Ada kept a sharp eye on you while you tend to her injuries. Nothing serious - just a few cuts, bruises and some broken bones, ribs and fractures. But Ada's too tired to tend them herself so she leaves that job to you. You examine her injuries, surprised that she doesn't show any signs of pain in her cold, sharp countenance - countless missions must've hardened her edges, you thought.

"Are you just going to stare at me all day?" Her cutting tone snaps you out of your train of thought.

Embarrassed, a practiced smile plays on your lips, "My apologies," and began tending to her wounds.

The first thing Ada notices is the way you touched her: soft, gentle. Then again, so is any other physician while they treat their patients. But what makes yours...different?

Perhaps she was touch-starved.

You graciously ignored Ada's gaze as you tend to her injuries, something she finds interesting considering her gaze was enough to make some...targets fumble, but not you. But oh, she thought wrong. Ada saw the way your well-manicured hands twitch at her proximity - you were tending to the gash on the side of her waist. You were close enough to smell her scent: woody, warm spicy, vanilla...cherries.

The older woman's lips curl to a ghost of a smirk as she witnessed how you momentarily froze before tending to her wound before calmly leaning away from her and smiling rather nervously at the Asian woman before giving Ada her doctor's note and sending her off. Ada just stood there, outside the door as she looks at your note. Nothing significant, just some painkillers, antibiotics, reminders to change her bandages and, oh? A medical certificate for her injuries and a note acknowledging the state of her injuries. Contrary to your mentor, he would just tend to her wounds and give her some aspirin and send her off. Her lips curl upward. Interesting, Ada would thought before keeping your note.

Ada then discovers that she finds you amusing. Which also leads her to another discovery about herself: that she's a creature of habit, and that visiting the medcenter will be the first thing she does after returning from her missions. And so she did, every after her missions, you'd notice that she would prefer you over the attending physician. You find it flattering because it means one thing: she trusts you with her wounds. The Asian woman would always come back with her wounds slightly detrimental than the last - but no worries, you're capable of treating them. While you find it concerning, Ada sees it as a valid reason to feel the pads of your fingers against her skin.

And she loves it.

She loves the way you'd wipe the blood on her face and body away like a demented blush, or the way your fingers would delicately examine her bruises to the point that she finds herself fantasizing how your lips would feel all over her scars and bruises instead of your fingers. Every touch from you would figuratively bring the older woman to her knees; Ada has to admit, you have that kind of power over her.

You on the other hand, well, developed a certain liking for the older woman. Calm, verbally well-articulated and devastatingly gorgeous - you have no doubt that anyone who comes across her would be intrigued. But as a professional and an aspiring attendee, you had to bury that attraction, and you thought it was simple.

You were wrong, utterly wrong.

With every visit from Ada, there would be hushed greetings, piercing stares, low praises from her - it makes your spine tingle with glee and bliss.

"You'd get wrinkles if you do that." The older woman mused as she sits on the edge of the examining table. You shoot her a pointed look - you were comfortable to show your displeasure when it comes to her serious injuries. "How could I not when you look like 'that'?" You counter as you gesture at her state. The latter raises a brow as she looks down at herself. Her shirt is soaked with blood, she swore she had just changed before coming to see you but the blood from her poorly bandaged shoulder wound seeped into the fabric of the material, not to mention her small cuts and bruises. She quirked a brow, "You do realize that you treated far more serious injuries from me?"

"Yes, but-" You stop yourself before inhaling slowly to better articulate your words. "It's concerning-"

"Are you worried?"

A pause, "Of course," You sigh quietly before approaching her. "Are you able to remove your shirt?"

The latter raise a brow and you flushed. "I need to examine the wound-"

"Easy, pretty girl," She grins and the red on your cheeks darkened. "And I can't," She palms the bloody bandage. "I think I need new bandages and maybe some muscle tape."

You can't help but return her grin, "Stitches, probably."

The latter nods as you prepare the surgical scissors and begin cutting through her shirt. While doing so, Ada watches you intently as the cloth loosens, and cuts in half, revealing her scarred, lithe torso. You inhale slowly before gently removing the soaked cloth and tending to her injury.

"At this point, I think you allow yourself to get hurt." You stammered as you patched her up in a quick yet efficient fashion, "Well, I mean - I'm not saying it to undermine your capabilities as an asset or anything - what I'm saying is-" Ada merely chuckles when you're done. "I mean," The former slowly stands up. "Ada," You warned, "You shouldn't-" But the Asian doesn't listen as she gracefully steps toward you, you did the opposite.

"You really shouldn't," Your words die in your throat as her figure towers over you. Damn, was Ada this tall before? How come you didn't notice?

Reality sets in when your back presses against the counter. "Ada, your injuries-" Your pleas fall on deaf ears as the older woman traps you against the counter - she didn't even cage you in yet before she takes another step closer to you - uncomfortably close that she can take your fleeting scent: comforting, with the right amount of sweet, and mingling notes of Jasmine.

Ada's eyes dilated.

"For the last time, Ada," The former was brought back to her senses when your hand pressed against the base of her neck, your fingers are pressed against the muscle between her neck, and right collarbone. "Sit down, please - do you feel anything at all?"

The older woman slowly blinks before finally, trapping you with her arms blocking your sides as she looks down at you through her lashes.

You feel her pulse quicken beneath her cool, pale skin.

"I do now," Ada whispers.

[raysrays]

Professor! Kyojuro Rengoku X GN! Reader

TW: Student/Professor Relationship, suggestive themes

-Comment if there are any other Hashira you’d like me to write about!

History was a required course for your college major, and while it wasn't your favorite, it certainly wasn't the worst. The workload was manageable, and your peers were fine. However, what made the course truly interesting was the professor, Kyojuro Rengoku, a master of history.

He always seemed to be in a good mood, radiating positivity, complimented with an extremely loud demeanor 24/7. Despite this, his happy-go-lucky attitude was one of the reasons you bothered showing up to class.

More often than you'd like to admit, you found yourself captivated by him rather than the material he presented on the blackboard behind him. Something about his white button-up shirt fitting snugly against his tall, muscular frame was incredibly captivating. You couldn't help but feel a rush of heat whenever he glanced your way. Perhaps it was just your imagination, but it always seemed like his eyes lingered on you for just a moment longer than the others.

Surely not. It's most likely just your imagination. While you do enjoy school, you've always made an attempt not to stand out too much. So why would Professor Rengoku have any reason to look your way?

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Suddenly, you notice him standing in front of you, looking concerned. You snap out of your trance and glance around the classroom, seeing the empty desks. Class is already over?

You scramble to your feet, trying to put all your things back into your bag. "I'm so sorry, Professor. I must have dozed off. I'll get out of your way in just a moment." The embarrassment overwhelms you. There you were, just thinking about him, and now he's caught you daydreaming.

In the midst of your desperate attempt to pack your notebooks back into your bag, you notice him place his hand on top of yours, stopping you.

"Slow down, Y/n. Just calm down. There's no need to get all flustered. I was simply checking on you to make sure you were alright!" He smiles reassuringly.

Suddenly, you feel your heartbeat slowly calming down, and your body feels more relaxed. He wasn't angry or put off. That's good. You raise your head to meet his eyes, and to your surprise, you weren't met with his usual happy smile; this time, you see a genuine concerned look on his face. You were shocked.

"Is everything okay lately, Y/n? I've noticed you've been slightly lacking in class lately, but I didn't think it was necessary to say anything until now. Are you not feeling alright?" His voice was quieter, and his tone sincere. This wasn't the Professor Rengoku you were used to at all.

It was true you hadn't been at the top of your game lately when it came to school, but not anything a professor with hundreds of students would ever notice. Or so you thought.

"I really am sorry, Professor. I've just been a little not myself lately. I promise I'll get back on track soon."

His concerned look turns back into his usual kind smile.

“That’s great to hear! You are a wonderful student! I look forward to getting to see you everyday-“ he stops himself he looking a little nervous. He said more than he was supposed to.

You noticed his hand his still on top on yours. Did he mean it? He looked forward to seeing you? Why?

He must have also noticed because he pulled his hand back standing up straight. You noticed a small blush on his cheeks.

“I apologize, I shouldn’t have said something that could be misinterpreted as unprofessional. I just mean you are a great student and I really enjoy lecturing to people who appreciate it.” He laughed nervously trying to cover up what he had just said.

The realization of the situation finally hit you, did professor Rengoku really like you? I mean he can notice you aren’t feeling your best but he always asks the poor boy that sits up at the front of the class what his name is because he can’t remember.

“Is that really all it is?” You ask with a small grin on your face. Where did this confidence come from? You’ve always considered him to be attractive but you never really thought it would go anywhere.

He looks a little taken aback by the question his smile looking a little unsure now. He glances down at his wrist watch. It’s almost time for his next lecture.

“Y/n I’d hate to let one of my students fall behind perhaps you should stay after class next week and we should try and catch you up.” He looked back at you hopeful.

Staying after class with professor Rengoku… you’re really not even that far behind. But now you starting to wonder if you can get something more out of him than just notes.

“Yes I’ll stay after. I appreciate the offer.” Your voice sounds a little more flirty than before.

He takes notice of this and nods. “Great! I look forward to it.” You couldn’t help but notice to shift in his tone as well.

you guess you didn’t mind playing teachers pet. Now that you know it’s not just some hopeless fantasy.

Staying after class with professor Rengoku. This should be fun.

[sorya-lee]

Ephemeral.

HunterxTraitorJedi!Reader

Genre : Fluff with a sprinkle of angst.

Warnings : Order 66 innuendos, non-spoken feelings, mutual pining

Summary : You're a Jedi who betrayed the Republic and the Council but you're still working for them, waiting for the right moment, the wake up call of your master. Lost deeply in your thoughts and worries, a certain Sergeant had decided to distract you.

This one-shot was inspired by my own OC story.

It was one of this day, another mission in this never ending war. You knew things were going to change soon but you didn't know if it was for the best. You were scared to say the least but confident or you're trying to be. Because there is no going back. Not after all the sacrifices and the price was too beautiful to let it go now. Your suffering, your anger, your pain, it could never be repairable. And the Jedi Order had to pay the consequences of their pride and blindness that you could not stand anymore.

You were deep lost in your thoughts, it seems like you were meditating, your back leaning against the cold metal wall of the Marauder, the ship of your own squad. You were a particular Jedi and that's why special forces were assigned to you. You weren't particularly fond of taking back a new squad of clones after what happened to Foxtrot Group at Sarrish. But Clone Force 99 grew on you and you already like clones on the other hand. But this squad take the cake, they were all so unique and special. Effective in battle and incredibly funny out of field.

If there is one clone that you were particularly fond of was Hunter. The leader of your squad and your subordinate. You didn't know if it was because of the chain of command but you had an interesting understanding of eachother. But it was a forbidden bond, you sense in the Force that that attraction was more than a General to a Sergeant relationship. You were pining for eachother, hard.

Hunter was the little ray of sunshine in your life. The war, the Jedi Council, the conspiracy... Your life was clouded and a storm was brewing, nothing very joyful or peaceful had happened in a long time. That's why it was maybe easier to let Hunter in your life, turning your heart and your mind upside down without naming what was this feeling properly. After all, we were at war and you weren't selfish enough to make him suffer with your future actions, yet. It was too late for that.

You were lost deep in your thoughts and worries when a gently nudge at your shoulder interrupted you. You lift your head and open your eyes to meet the brown ones of your Sergeant. You smile slightly to hide whatever you were feeling moments before, something like pain and anger. You raised an inquiry eyebrow inviting him to speak.

"Sorry to interrupt you General." He apologized soflty, his deep low voice even more deeper because of his tone that could be misinterpreted as a whisper. "You should head to sleep we had a long day."

Your smile grew wider in a thin line. Hunter, always worrying for you, even if you were a trained and capable Jedi.

"Are you trying to boss me around Sergeant?" You asked, teasing evident in your voice. You also could sensed in the Force that Hunter's energy was different than usual, he was also tired, even more than you.

"I wouldn't dream of it General." He answered simply. You put a firm hand on his left shoulder, you were about to invite him to go to sleep as well but you felt something else in the Force. Ah, there it is. This strong bond between the two of you, hidden deep in your respective fatigue. Your hand slipped from his armored shoulder to his black, you felt him shivered at the unexpected caress, but you didn't stop. You didn't know what's had gotten into you but in a way it's a thing that you had to cling to. To feel safe and alive. Away from the tourments that you were causing to yourself.

Your eyes were scanning each of his expressions. His eyes go from your hand to your eyes, to your lips and that's when you shivered yourself. The only idea that Hunter's lips could be on yours was a very dark and intoxicating temptation because it was forbidden for both of you. Your hand leave his black to his exposed skin, his neck. The contact of your skin against his in such a unusual place sent you spiralling and you were sure it was the same for Hunter because his eyes closed briefly, he swallowed hard and took a deep breath as if he had to steady himself.

Your eyes softened and you tilted your head. Your hand didn't continue on his face as he would have expected. No. It slipped behind his neck to his scalp and his locks. They're a mess because of the mission of today despite his helmet encaging it. But it didn't stop your from scratching his scalp tenderly and intertwining your fingers with his locks. He closed his eyes because of your tender touch, something he wasn't used for from anyone. He never knew the tenderness of a mother touch and do not count on his brothers to give that kind of touch...

You broke the silence after a minute. "I... We should go to sleep." You said with regrets in your voice not wanting to stop at all what was going on right now. But you couldn't take the chance to be caught by his brothers either. Lucky for you both, Crosshair was cleaning his rifle, Tech was piloting and Wrecker was sound asleep but you couldn't just stand in the corridor like this.

Hunter's heightened senses were on the edge. Since the minute he disturbed you, he sensed your heartbeat fastly increasing, your natural smell was bewitching him because of how close you were but your touch on him was what drove him crazy. He wouldn't stop for nothing in this galaxy either. It was one of the realest thing he ever experienced in his life. In this war, there was no place for attachment, he was meant to be expandable, cannon fodder, for a galaxy that he'd known so little but only by Kaminoan files. He wasn't supposed to mean something for someone, just an ephemeral shadow in this vast galaxy.

But there you are, a Jedi, his general, his superior. He shouldn't be doing this, kriff, he shouldn't think that it's possible to be this close to you. You made an oath too but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help this closeness, this attraction, this bond it was too much to just let it slip away. And he could die tomorrow, so could you. Everything is supposed to be ephemeral.

This is with this mindset that he catched your retracting hand with his gloved one. You gasped soflty and looked in his eyes, something shifted in the way he was looking at you, he was bold and determined.

"No." He says simply. "I mean... We could take this more privately." He trails not realizing the double meaning of his words, your cheeks reddened and you scrunched your nose and eyebrows in confusion.

He looked at you and suddenly realized. He let go of your hand and put it behind his head, all shy suddenly. "N-no... That's not what I meant. My hair is a real mess and I think you could do... Something about it... Without my brothers... Without risking to be seen." He said quickly but still low so none of his brothers could hear his demand. Hunter went from the confident Sergeant you knew on the battlefield to a babbling mess scared he had offended his general.

You took his other hand in yours, take a glance at your surrounding and with a slight movement of your head you told him "Come on."

He followed without asking question. You grabbed the blanket they lend you for the cold nights and you climbed the ladder to the tail gun, the only place were you could hope to have a little bit of intimacy. Hunter climbed behind you as you settled the blanket on the cold metal floor and you sit. The gun chair was taking a big space but you could manage to make some room, Hunter had to just lean down.

You invited him with arms open but he looked at you incredulously. You chuckled and told him softly "Lay down on my lap Sergeant." He hesitated then made up his mind and sit down then lay his head on your lap. He was tensed you could sense it. You trailed a hand on his face and you took off his bandana gently. Some small locks fell on his face. You took the bandana, looked at it, you passed your thumb on the skull and smiled a bit. You took his hand which was laying on his stomach and you put the bandana in. He clenched at it and with his other hand he stroked your arm.

Then you started working. At first, you just played with his hair slowly and you scratched his scalp from time to time. Hunter closed his eyes even if he wanted to keep looking at your concentrate face, he couldn't help but feeling relaxed by your touch.

You realized that you forgot your comb and that you couldn't just move. You let one hand in Hunter's hair, still stroking his forehead and his hair and with the other, you concentrated to see the place where you let the comb this same morning and you used the Force. Some moment after, the comb was in your hand and you heard a slight chuckle as you open your eyes and faced Hunter who also had open his eyes.

"I love when you do that." He simply said. "And why that?" Did you ask in return as you start to comb his soft locks not resting from your previous ministrations.

"Because..." He took a moment to look for the right words. "It makes me feel like you're one of us."

"How's that?" You genuinely ask. "Well, you're special."

You scoff, cheeks red. "If it was another Jedi General it would have been the same you know." You just answered like if it was just a normal thing, but not for Hunter.

"I don't think so. No. I know so." He said, repositionning his head on your lap and closing his eyes. It was true, which general would have taken care of him and his brothers like you do. Which general would comb his Sergeant hair on their lap? No one. But you do.

In a way, you felt guilty because in your heart, it looked like your just doing it to lighten your actions and the future ones. But you genuinely cared for them, for him. Or you wouldn't have asked to retrieve your beloved squad once everything would have been done. Everything would be the same between you but even better, because you would be free, free to love who you want to love. And no war would stop you. Peace will be brought again to the galaxy and you will be free.

"You don't believe me." He said opening one eye with a slight smirk on his handsome face, interrupting once again your dark thoughts. That's exactly why you loved him, he was the light in your dark times.

"It's not about what you said, it's about me struggling to believe that it could be true for me."

He raised one hand and stroke the side of your head and your hair. "I don't know what you are fighting for within you, but you know you can always rely on... me." Hunter wanted to say on "us" but for once, he didn't wanted to involve his brothers in the confession you were making to him and him only.

"You're special." He said soflty but deeply. "If you're not special amongst the Jedi, at least if it's what you like to believe, you are special... for me." You hold the hand which was on your face, you catch it and intertwined your fingers with his and you rest your hands on his chest, just above his heart. Your eyes, soft and filled with adoration were looking at his face and your other one lost itself in his hair between stroking and scratching his scalp.

You didn't spoke oppenly about your mutual feelings, but you knew it was better this way.

All that happened for the past half hour with Hunter was like a bubble. Everything was slow and gentle, as if time had stopped around you, as if there was no war and no secret conspiracy. You didn't have to be a Jedi nor a General in this moment. And he didn't have to be a Sergeant or a Clone in this moment. It was just Hunter and you and the rest of the Galaxy could burn, you wouldn't care.

You lost yourself in this peaceful moment like your fingers were lost in his now soft and combed locks, your worries far away even if they were closer than what you'd like. Your eyes scanning his peaceful and resting features. You didn't know if Hunter had fallen asleep, but you couldn't care anymore, you wouldn't stop. After all, in your heart, you knew this moment was ephemeral.

Thanks for reading !

[ophiephobia]

Been thinking about this iconic image again and have decided to make my English teacher proud by reading into it way too much. Apologies for the insane amounts of abbreviated names. Also spoiler warning.

One thing I love about this image is that Kdj isn’t actually looking at Yjh- he’s looking sort of past him, but Yjh is looking exactly at Kdj and is focused on him. Kdj has a blade coming at him and he’s still focused on something else still has a bigger goal outside of life/death or Yjh. But Yjh is focused entirely on Kdj because Kdj is essentially everything to Yjh: his creator (at least the one who made him real), the man who gave him the power that made him so strong, the man who condemned him to a torturous cycle, and the man who showed him a different world and gave him hope. But to Kdj, at least at the start, yjh is a character and one of many (even if he is the most important one to Kdj).

I feel like because in the 2nd regression Yjh had Lsh to love and be devoted to many people act like Yjh has so many options and priorities outside of Kdj, and because Kdj loved TWSA and therefore Yjh (and is also kind of a loser) he is treated like the more devoted and desperate one of the pair. But oftentimes Kdj doesn’t stop to consider how Yjh feels about him unless it’s to get something out of him. Like maybe I misinterpreted the scene but he doesn’t really think about how traumatic it might be for yjh to kill the person who gave him hope or have them be lost without a clear sign of returning. Whenever Kdj does consider Yjh’s feelings it has this tone of still viewing Yjh as a character, like when he was asking of Yjh would be okay with killing Lsh.

Elaborating on having people outside of each other- Yjh has people he knows and Ljh looks up to him, but for the most part he alienates others. Dokja has all of Kimcom, like hsy and ysh and lsh and lhs and hjw and lgy and biyoo etc etc while to yjh Dokja is his sole companion. These are all part of my list of reasons why I don’t love the heavy woobification of Dokja by much of the fandom because he *isn’t* entirely whipped even if he does care about Yjh because often he just views him as a means to an end. The relationship from Yjh to Kdj is one I believe can’t even be described as love because Kdj is basically everything to Yjh (sole reader, closest companion, greatest foe, dreamer of the world, etc) whether he knows it or not. Idk I don’t really know how to end this and it got off topic but yeah. The sillies.

TLDR: kdj has goals and thoughts and plans always and doesn’t always see yjh for what he is (more than a character) while yjh truly tries to understand kdj.

[maxphilippa]

The Misinterpretation of Taco's and Mic's relationship. [An toxic "friendship" analysis.]

Today I bring another analysis that yes, was an option on the pool I made, and I do know that other option won, but I'll do that post once I feel like it (most likely tomorrow since I find it rather easy to do). But today I will be talking about one of the most sugarcoated relationships in the fandom, and that is Taco's and Mic's relationship.

And before you read this and get angry at me: it is not my problem if you view them in a different way, this is an analysis, nothing more, and this is what I realized meanwhile rewatching S2 again and again as time paases. I am not asking for opinions if you will come as aggressive towards it and I apologize if this comes as mean, but I am very tired of how some people might act whenever someone shares a different point of view.

However, in this post we'll be discussing topics such as: manipulation, self esteem issues, and such. If any of these topics are complicated for you, just a heads up as well.

Alright. Let's start with the basics.

Their first interaction(s).

Okay, for starters, their first interaction was already started with a left foot, with Taco reading Mic's dairy out loud and pointing out the entries in which Mic felt the most vulnerable as a whole, let's take in count the fact that Mic was already struggling a lot with everything and how her own team leader was treating her, so hearing someone list all of her insecurities outloud in a careless tone was certainly not the thing that she needed in such an complicated emotional moment.

She was, in fact, so stressed and felt basically worthless, that she started crying just from hearing that, since it does count as "making fun of her struggles" in a way.

She's obviously affected by this, again, this is THEIR FIRST CANON INTERACTION.

And Mic is obviously hurt by this, her voice even breaking a bit.

And she quickly takes an defensive stance the moments she sees Taco as well. Of course she would, she was in an emotional moment and she just touched sensitive topics for her.

And here we go, my favorite part! Taco belittling Mic and making fun of her! (It is not my favorite, if you can't tell, I hate it.)

Okay, so as we can get from their first interaction, what Taco does is essentially use a mix of flattery and making fun of Mic so Mic would listen to her. Taco tells Mic that she's bold and that her playing method is diverse, but however, what she needs is direction on what she does after all. Again, she says this as she then insults Mic again, and basically tells her that she would be nothing without her help, and makes her doubt herself as well.

Let alone that Taco's intentions are pretty clear ever since they first interact, her main interest being half of Mic's gainings if Mic won the challenge thanks to her. Taco clarifies that it is for bussiness matters, nothing more. And she makes sure that Mic has doubts over her decision.

So if you realize she still continues the flattery + making fun of Mic as a person, and then, Taco ends up telling her "well, but that's your choice"

That's.

That's an manipulation tactic.

To make the person feel guilty over the things they did and reconsider their own choices. The cherry on the top is that after Taco crosses Mic's boundaries, tells her that she is PATHETIC (and that's an strong word), she ends up telling her that she can be much more.

You would thing that things could get better? Answer is no.

Let's take a look to Mic as an character. She's selfless. In Brian's own words, Mic goes under the radar always, but she always wants to make things fair for everyone as much as she can.

So she felt guilty and uncomfortable over the whole first interaction Taco and her had.

She is uncomfortable and doesn't know what to do after this whole interaction, and you can realize this by the way she talks and shows herself to others, she's clearly stressed enough.

Mic didn't want to be alone after what happened with Taco, and Nickel telling her "especially you, Mic, you're kind of an wildcard" was something that made Mic angry as well.

She didn't want to be alone after that happened.

When Fan and Mic are talking about Spoiled Lemon "A Party" song, Mic says "So everything he does is decided by someone else? Nice message", and that's foreshadowing to what Taco does to Mic shortly after.

When it comes to the words of gaining, even Mic shows her distaste at Taco's words. She's not having it and she's tired. And yes, I do know that the scene plays it out as an small joke, but Mic still says it.

And in their next interaction- the first thing Taco does is insult Mic and basically tell her again that she needs her.

So. You guys can see an small pattern here. But that's somewhat obvious, after all, Taco herself said that she likes to mess with people.

The Line At Spoiled Lemon's Concert falling on them.

"She made me feel like I needed her."

Taco's manipulation towards Microphone happened. Taco made Microphone feel like she needed her in order to succeed in the game, despite Mic trying to have her own voice, this also goes down to their final interaction on the show, Mic finally breaking up their contact.

Because Taco hurted her in ways that are profound. Mic never needed her to begin with.

Pushing Mic's boundaries.

Let's begin with an small fact. Mic started to trust in Taco because Taco actually did help her on the maze and their small interaction at SL's show shows it. However, just because Mic considers Taco an associate now, a friend even, doesn't mean that Taco's behaviour goes on a better direction. Even though she... "stops" belittling Mic at times, she still uses flattery for Mic to stay next to her side. Because that's the main thing with Mic.

She gets attached to those who show that they care for her. She got attached to Soap, and even got somewhat invested on Cheesy after seeing how her opinion actually mattered a lot for her.

Taco made Mic think that she needed her, and that's explicit, though Mic even questions it.

"But it can't be manipulation if she's conscious of it"

It can be. But the thing is that Mic started trusting Taco. That's why the tactics seem to be not there, but Mic's discomfort and uncertainty remains despite everything.

Taco pushes Mic's boundaries and gets angry when Mic "threw away" her gift (the taser), but just as Mic was TRYING TO EXPLAIN HERSELF (imagine explaining yourself to someone as to why you couldn't hurt someone that has ultimately helped you, that's not healthy), Taco quickly does flattery again, and that reassures Mic that she's doing something good.

Taco is telling Mic what she wants to hear.

The thing is that Taco is doing to Mic what she did to Pickle.

It isn't downright explicit until Ep 14 + once you rewatch those scenes after what Mic says, but you can tell in a way. Taco accomodates her working style according to Mic's personality and behaviour.

Because Taco later on does take a friend-lier approach, but that is because Mic considered Taco a friend, and if acting like a friend is what would make Mic stay, then so be it. Kind of like what she did to Pickle, she acted as his best friend until the very end, and when she failed to get what she wanted, she said stuff to him that marked him forever.

Now she knows what and what not to do to make sure that her plan goes well.

Mic is sensitive and naturally has an heart of gold. So she has to adapt herself to that. Taco becomes softer, yes, but she's still manipulating Mic during it.

And let's not forget a very VERY important fact about them too, and it's how Knife was the one that reached out/noticed that something was wrong.

Knife, Pickle's best friend.

Knife, who has seen how Taco hurted Pickle on the past and saw how she admitted that she was just playing around and everything.

Knife, who saw the damage that Taco did.

Yes, Knife was the main factor on Mic's growth alongside Taco, but the thing is that Knife was there to make Mic realize that Taco was using her.

And now, that means something too. Knife is part of Taco's past. Let's not forget the fact that Mic knows little to nothing about it, but after what Knife tells her about Pickle, she reconsiders her choices for a brief minute. But Mic defends Taco. Because Taco finally has what she wanted: Mic believes in her, therefore, she won't leave her side. Mic defends Taco despite everything because she genuinely thinks that she's changing and found it nice when Taco admitted that she wasn't being completely honest.

But let's also talk over the fact that Taco has been constantly pushing Mic to hurt/let her friends get hurt in many ways, and meanwhile Mic managed to make it up for the Balloon situation, Mic straight up stopped everything just to save Knife and tried as much as she could to get him on their side.

It gets so bad to the point where even after she tells Knife that Taco's changing and if he doesn't want to join them, that he could at least not say anything, but Knife gets emotionally vulnerable with her.

And that's something she didn't exactly expect.

Hearing Knife mention how Trophy manipulated him, when they're talking about Taco, made Mic think too much again.

In fact, Mic is sad + stressed after what Knife told her.

Then yes, on the next episode, Mic does joke about what Knife told her, but we know that she really wouldn't do that at all- she wants to think that Taco is her friend, and jokes around like you would do with one, but even then Taco did drop her after Mic said it.

Which is ironic, because Mic dropped Taco first before Taco could do a Pickle again.

Episode 14.

The ep 14 has many Mic and Knife interactions and shows the down fall of her friendship with Taco, but let's talk about the Knife scenes first before getting to the fall of their friendship.

Knife reaches out once again and tells Mic to stop doing that to herself- to have some dignity, that is, because Mic can do better, but Mic once again decides to defend Taco because... Taco's her friend, right? She has a voice here, no one is shutting her down, no one is dragging her...

Right?

The timing of what Taco is doing to MePad as Mic speaks is intentional as well. It is what Taco has been doing to Mic since the start.

Literally. She literally shut Mic down by touching her voice button the first time they met. Like. It's right there.

Again, Microphone's body language whenever she's with Taco is rather awkward, and of course she's not a big fan of the fact that Taco harmed one of her hosts to do something. Mic has always been trying to do things without hurting others directly, so Taco being able to hurt someone is something that she doesn't like.

Also, adding to the fact that Mic wanted Taco to promise that she wouldn't hurt anybody once they go to save Fan, and yet decided to believe Taco when she said "not necessary, teamwork prevails".

But of course, as all things... the wolf in sheeping's clothing will eventually show it's true self.

She got herself INFRONT of an species she doesn't know, TO PROTECT THEM, instead of trusting Taco

AND THAT SAYS A LOT AS WELL.

It's not only because Mic realized the truth, but because she puts everyone else first before her own person, she's too selfless and didn't even question trying to protect The Shimmer, she just did because she wouldn't get behind what Taco did any longer.

And now, with the end of their friendship...

"See? This is what happens when you listen to me, Mic. Delectable, isn't it?

Finally, a taste of recognition, finally, I can finally-"

It's the realization sinking in.

It's Mic finally realizing that Knife was right.

That Taco was using her the same way she used Pickle.

The same way she used her once best friend.

She never had a friend in Taco.

And Mic even says it- it just proves my point again of "Taco accomodating herself in order to maintain Mic by her side", MIC HERSELF SAYS IT.

"Making him feel like he was doing what he wanted? Like he was heard? I thought I gained a friend. Turns out? I gained nothing."

And when Taco says "surely it couldn't have been nothing-" is her denial- because she couldn't just mess up like she did with Pickle, right?

But she did. She was alone, again.

And Mic shows it via turning her gain down.

Which is a nice call back to Taco saying "it's your game, you have so much to gain", Mic has nothing to gain after that.

Mic's Elimination and The End Of Her Character arc.

This part is the most explicit one when it comes to how toxic their friendship actually was.

How Mic started doubting about herself, how she started explaining that she didn't make the best choices, how she felt guilty over that.

Goddamit, even Mic says "I heard it so often... that I never heard myself.", when referring to the voice in her head.

The realization of Taco's true self was so bad that Mic started having an identity crisis and started doubting if everything she did was because she wanted.

And it's not even doubting either, she affirms that.

And the aftermath is complicated since Mic is still having troubles accepting it. She still cares for Taco because she thought of her as a friend, yes, but she knows that what Taco did wasn't okay and how badly she hurted her.

But Dios mio, Knife even says that Mic looks relieved after cutting ties with Taco because she is. She no longer has to be around someone who lied to her, who made her feel like she was special when it was all just sugarcoated lies.

And she warns Knife about Taco afterwards. Mic wanted a friend, and she might have lost Taco, but she knew what to do thanks to Knife. He was the friend she needed the most.

Of course then Taco shows up and seems to have regrets as well. Do I think that she regrets it? Yes, in a way, the same way she regrets what she did to Pickle, but saying sorry won't fix anything either.

Microphone doesn't want to know anything about her, the same way Pickle does.

After all, that's why she left the show and decided to start over.

And with that, I'm done.

[smutlord-supreme]

I also got stalked a couple years ago for similar reasons (coworker/classmate misinterpreted friendliness as romantic interest). I never really see anyone talk or write about it realistically, so thank you. I feel like no one really gets it unless they’ve experienced it firsthand. I’d love to see an extended ghost version if your requests are still open!

Ok I did my best on this one, but I'll tell you right off the bat I'm not sure how happy I am with it, so I apologize. Something I really tend to ramble in my stories and this is definitely one of those times. That being said the majority of this was written and edited while I was in the club last night. So that has to count for something. Nothing like the ambiance of pounding music and pressing bodies to really motivate me to write a fic about Ghost... maybe thats an idea. Ghost in the club... well see.

Without further ado...

The Letter

Ghost X Reader

7,443 words

Cw: stalking, bodily injury, fighting

Summary: You get a letter from someone you had hoped to never hear from again.

~thank you for reading~

You had been dating Ghost for nearly 2 years. A gentle and doting boyfriend, if not fairly reserved. You and he spent almost everyday he was home together. That Saturday was not different.

He had gone out earlier that day to pick up some muffins from the bakery down the street, while you stayed in and made coffee and tea. This was your normal weekend routine. The local bakery was closed on Sundays so Ghost would buy all of your baked goods for the week, bringing them home to you.

You heard the key jiggle in the lock and his heavy boots hitting the tile of your foyer as he peeled them off before coming inside. You had never really asked him to do that, but it was the type of boyfriend he was. Always diligent, always thoughtful.

He stepped into the kitchen, humming softly to himself and putting a brown paper bag and some mail on the kitchen counter. Walking up behind you, he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your neck. "G'morning."

You turned around in his embrace and gave him a quick peck, "morning Simon. Tea is ready." You gestured to his cup of tea, quickly cooing on the counter. After years of practice, you had managed to get the timing just right, so the tea was the perfect temperature when he got home. Although, even if it was too cold he never complained.

"Thanks Love," he unraveled himself from you, walking over and taking a sip from the cup. "Perfect as always. You got some mail by the way, I just went ahead and brought it up for you."

You smiled at him, "Thank you honey." You poured yourself a cup and turned your attention to the mail on the table while it cooled. "Do you mind grabbing a plate for the muffins?" You asked pawing through the pile of paper.

"Sure thing." He replied, clamoring in the cabinet behind you as your eyes landed on a letter.

It didn't have any address, return or otherwise. It had been dropped directly into your flat's mailbox. With only your first name in chicken scratch on the front. Other than that it was fairly normal, a white evalope that seemed to lightly bend at the middle, containing something thick and heavy. "...Simon?"

He appeared behind you at your worried tone, plate still in hand. "What is it?"

You held up the letter. "What is this?"

He set the plate down next to you gently, grabbing the letter from your hands. "I have no clue. Maybe the landlord left it?" He pulled out a pen knife and sliced open the top. Being careful to hold it far away from himself. When there was no sign of danger he pulled out the contents. A thick stack of small square photos tied together with a rubber band.

He moved the muffins and the rest of the mail to the other side of the table, spreading the photos out like a story board. They were all of you over the last couple of weeks. Walking to the bus, grabbing the mail, taking your lunch break outside of work.

You picked one up gently, it had a word on the back, 'think.' You began turning over every photo. Each one had a different word on the back. Your breath quickened. They were all out of order but it was clearly a message. The blood pounded in your ears. You could tell Ghost was speaking, but you couldn't hear a word he said.

Instead you opted to organize the photos by date. And as you did a message began to form.

'Did you think that you could get away from me that easily? You're mine. I found you.'

You slid down to the floor of the kitchen, back flat against the lower cabinets. Beginning to hyperventilate, you press your palms into your eyes as your ears ring.

Ghost settles down beside you. Waiting for this wave of panic to end. He doesn't touch you, or speak. He just waits.

When you lift your head he is looking down at you. Searching your tear stained face. "Let's get you in the shower, huh? I think some warm water will make you feel better." You let him lead you into the bathroom. He sits you on the toilet seat while he sets the water to the right temperature. Helping you strip and climb into the tub, he keeps his touches light and gentle. "I'll be back in a little bit." He leaves and closes the door behind him.

You stand in the shower numbly until he comes back with a towel. Wrapping you up and holding you wedding style. Tossing you onto the bed and laying next to you. He lays your head on his chest as you are lulled by the sound of his breathing.

"What was that? Who sent those?" He speaks to you softly. Rubbing your back is slow circular motions.

"I-" you pause searching for the words. "Back in my home town I worked for a bookstore." He stays silent as you speak slowly, almost painfully. "There was another person who worked there. Um, they asked me out a few times, but I was too busy with school at the time to date... They used to follow me home from school and work. I called the cops a couple times but they just said it was puppy love."

Simon let's out a soft hum of acknowledgement. His hand has stopped rubbing your back, it is now settled between your shoulder blade. The other gripping your hand.

You let out a shaky breath. "Um. During the summer of my senior year he hid under my bed after I left the window open. Luckily a neighbor saw him climb into my window and called the cops. He was never convicted though... he convinced everyone it was a lovers spat..." You stopped talking. There wasn't much more to say.

"And he's the one who sent these photos to you?" Simon asked.

"I-I think so, I mean I don't know for sure. But I can't think of anyone else it could be. But maybe you're right maybe I'm just-"

He cut you off, "if you think it's him I beleive you." He eased you off his chest, sitting up and grabbing his phone. "Im going to make a few phone calls, you just rest."

You nod as he stands up and exits the bedroom. Closing he door quietly behind him and turning off the lights. As you lay there, listening to the soft drone of his voice in the other room you slowly drift out of consciousness.

You wake up close to noon to the sound of voices in the living room. You pull yourself out of bed. Darting into the bathroom to adjust your hair and clothes in the mirror. Your eyes stare tiredly back at you.

Gaz and Ghost are sitting on the couch, talking in hushed voices. Which go completely quiet when you come into the room. You notice that the photos have been tucked away and the mess from breakfast cleaned up save for 1 muffin on a plate.

Ghost stands and walks over to embrace you. "How did you sleep? I left a muffin out in case your hungry. I can make you some tea you'd like." You just nod, sitting on one of the stools by the kitchen counter.

He set about making your cup, adding a generous amount of sugar. "Gaz was just bringing over some papers. He offered to make a couple of runs to the store so I can stay home with you."

You spin around and look at Gaz, who is still on the couch. "Thank you Gaz."

He smiles at you, "no problem, I never mind Ghost owing me a favor anyways." He sends you a cheeky wink. "Plus I was nearby." His eyes bore into you, asking a questions.

You glance over your shoulder at Ghost. "Ghost didn't tell you what was going on, did he?"

"Naw, said he's been avoiding my questions." He slumps down, crossing his arms and putting a pouting look on his face. Upon seeing your look of distress he let's it go. "Don't worry about it, you don't have to tell me anything.

"I- uh, I got some concerning mail today. Really freaked me out." Gaz now has a look of concern on his face.

"Hey we're always a call away, ok? Any friend of Ghost is a friend of the 141." He stands up and walks over to you. And give your shoulder a quick squeeze.

Ghost sets a cup of tea behind you with a light clink. You can smell is aroma, peaking your appetite. He walks around the edge of the counter, leaning against it lightly.

Gaz looks up at whatever expression is on Ghosts' face and decides to politely excuse himself. Ghost walks him out. Locking the door behind him and settling back onto the couch.

"How are you feeling, love?" He has the slightest sound of worry in his voice. To anyone else, he may seem unbothered. But you know better.

"I'm fine." You sip your tea relishing its warmth. You can feel the presence of the envelope on the table behind you. Almost boring into the back of your head.

"I called your work. I let them know you wouldn't be in on Monday." You open your mouth to respond but he keeps talking. "I didn't tell them exactely what was up but I did send them a photo of your stalker. Told them not to let him in or around the building. Apparently he's been coming in and asking after you. They just figured it was a regular with a crush. Luckily your coworkers are a smart bunch and no one told him anything."

"How did you get a photo?" You were beginning to feel a little overwhelmed. Unsure how to react to this new information.

"Internet. I called your parent up and they told me his name. Just went to Facebook after that." He's kept his eyes on you this whole time. Continuously searching your face for signs of emotion. "Let's sleep at my place tonight huh?"

You stare at him. Thinking of the bachelor pad he calls home. It's a large house, with nothing but a mattress on the floor, some towels, a dresser, and one singular cooking pot. "I think we'll be more comfortable here, no?"

He chuckles lightly at the look of annoyance on your face. "Just trust me. Pack up a bag, a change of scenery will do you good."

You do trust him, so you finish your muffin, grab a duffel and start packing. Clothes, toiletries, and a book. It takes you nearly an hour to track down everything you need. During that time Ghost takes another call from Gaz and steps outside for a moment.

You feel uneasy with him not around. Despite that, packing is a great distraction for your weary mind. Tracking down a spare charger, sifting through your pile of unread books. It's therapeutic.

Ghost steps back in and you hear the lock turn loudly behind him. Had the lock always been that loud or was he making a show of it for you?

You step into the living room with your bulging duffel. "You got everything?" Ghost grabs the bag from you. Holding out his other hand for you to grab.

"Yeah I think so." You take one last look around before taking his hand. "Do you?"

He grunts thinking for a moment. "Keys, mask, wallet, phone... I am missing one thing." He drops the duffel and pulls you into a gentle, lingering kiss.

You laugh lightly and he bends to retrieve the bag. "With that out of the way I think we're good." Both of you descend the steps to the first floor, walking by those cursed mailboxes. You eye them suspiciously but Ghost just continues dragging you to the car.

He opens the passenger door to his Jeep Wrangler, helping you with the step. Then he circles to the driver's side, pulling himself up and in. You turn to him as he starts the car. "You know, I've never understood why you drive when you only live a couple blocks away." He stops, car idle, and looks at you.

"I suppose it's in case your turn out to be crazy and I have to run away." You can hear the smile in his voice.

"Im pretty sure you could outrun me."

"Not when you're angry I can't. You're scarier than you give yourself credit for." He leans forward and kisses you through the fabric of his mask. "But if you're serious, it's because I have to be prepared for Price to call anytime. I don't want to run four blocks to get home, and then drive to my destination. Seems unnecessarily complicated."

You couldn't argue with that. His job was very important, and time was of the essence if the captain was calling him. "Well I'm glad you have it today, I'm not very keen on walking all the way to your place today. Don't want that creep getting the chance to take any more photos for his collection." Ghost hums in response. Backing out of the parking spot and into traffic with one fluid motion.

Soon you arrive at his home. A semi-detached brick building, which he bought 5 years ago and has made minimal change to since. It sports a small backyard and a 2 story style with a bedroom and a home office on the top floor. It's a nice place, despite the spare furnishings.

He opens the door for you. Inviting you into the house. The first thing you notice is the smell. The soft scent of something sweet, like fruit and cinnamon. Did someone light a candle? It couldn't have been Ghost, he was with you all day. And he would never make a mistake like leaving a candle lit while he was out.

You felt the panic rising again. Did your stalker already make it into the house? Was he waiting for you? You hesitated in the foyer. But Ghost was calm, unbothered by this, locking the front door behind him. You sat on the floor to take off your shoes. He did the same, leaning against the wall and lifting his foot to undo the laces on his boot.

You waited for him to step in first. He walked to the back sliding door, double checking the lock. Then he turned and walked out of your sight and into the kitchen. You quickly follow and find him pulling what appears to be a casserole out of the fridge. It's covered in foil and has a yellow sticky note on the top.

As Ghost busies himself with the oven you walk over to the dish. Picking up the small scrolled note. "Soap's famous shepards pie. 400° 30 min. Enjoy ;)." You giggle. Soap is a great friend, Ghost is a lucky man.

"That was sweet of Soap. Since when does he have a key to your place?" You wrap your arms around Ghost's waist.

"Gaz has my spare right now. Must've brought Johnny along with him while he was setting up the cameras and the light system." He shrugs, struggling with the small buttons on the oven.

You brush his hands away, inputting the settings. Ghost may be a behemoth in the war zone, but he could be a damn clutz at home. It was something you adored about him. He really turned into a big oaf when he was relaxed. "Cameras? Lights? What are we doing, filming a movie?" You chuckle to yourself.

"They're trail cameras. Gaz hid 'em up in the trees out back and under some rocks in the front. Should cover all the corners of the property. Couldn't put them in your place, pretty sure that violates your lease or something."

You hum lightly. "And the lights?"

"Those I'll have to show you." He unwraps your arm from his waist, walking over to the back door. He unlocks it and steps outside. Taking about 5 steps into the yard before some of the brightest LEDs you've ever seen illuminate his face. He throws up an arm to cover his eyes, before walking back into the house.

"Well those certainly are lights. Motion activated?" He nods, rubbing his eyes lightly. "Those must be scary things to stun my big army man." You wrap your arms around his waist again. Fully smiling for the first time since this morning. "Thank you."

He nods again, wrapping his arms around you as well. "You don't have to thank me. I love you, and I would do anything to keep you safe. You know that."

"I know." You lay your head against him and he lays his cheek on the top of your head. The two of you slowly start to sway to some unheard music. Until the oven goes off and you break the bond. Returning to the kitchen to stick the pie in.

"Im heading upstairs for a moment." Ghost yells from the bottom of the stairs. "Be back soon."

You lean against the counter, surveying the living room from your view. Finally getting the chance to register your surroundings. When had he gotten a couch? And a TV? And... candles. That must have been what you were smelling when you came in. Someone had set up the living room to look similar to yours. The color scheme was a bit darker, and the brands weren't the same. But the position of the furniture was identical.

You walked over, palm running across the back of the couch. It was brand new, some of the plastic still sticking up between the cushions. You smiled imagining Soap and Gaz hauling the furniture into the house, swearing all the way.

Ghosts footsteps descended the stairs again. "I have a couple different movies we could watch-" He rounded the corner and stopped. You had tears falling down your face. "Oh God what's wrong? Are you ok?"

You rush up and hug him. "Thank you Simon, you have no idea how much this means to me."

He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing. "Of course my love."

You cried until the oven alarm went off. Sometime in the interim you ended up on the couch, still wrapped in Ghosts' arms. He pried himself out of your embrace. "I think that my house burning down would not make this night better, love." He smiled down at you, leaning down and laying a kiss on your forehead.

He left for the kitchen returning with 2 heaping bowls of Soap's casserole. Sitting on the couch next to you he lays both of them on the coffee table in front of you. "Let's watch something eh?" He grabs the remote before you can respond. Flipping through the channels before settling on some sappy romcom.

Ghost would never admit this outloud, but he loved these sorts of movies. There was something so mindless about them. Their predictability was calming to him.

You tucked yourself into a more comfortable position. Picking one of the steaming bowls off the table. The pie was delicious, rich and savory. Soap was a really good cook, which always surprised you. Most of his recipes were meant to feed a crowd, so it wasn't unusual for you to get leftovers. Not that you minded, Ghost wasn't much of a cook, so sometimes the break was welcome.

After the two of you had finished off your meal Ghost collected the dishes and gave them a quick rinse while there were commercials on the TV. When they ended he quickly rushed back to sit next to you. Fully absorbed in some movie about a lawyer returning to her hometown in Connecticut and reuniting with her high school boyfriend.

Ghost leaned back into the cushions, looping one arm around your shoulders. After a few moments he began to run his fingers through your hair gently. You leaned into him, allowing him more access to your head. His big fingers parting your hair over and over again. Lulling you into sleep.

You swore your eyes only closed for a moment but when you woke up the movie was over and Ghost was turning off the TV. "Sorry did I wake you?" He asked softly, laying a kiss on your temple.

You made a soft "nuh-uh" noise, shaking your head softly. Your eyes were still adjusting to being awake so you blinked slowly and lazily. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." You stretched towards the ceiling, groaning with effort.

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you're getting some rest." He shuffles around, grabbing hold of the blanket you were now covered with. Pulling it off of you and folding it neatly before laying it on the table. He then walks back over to you, scooping you up just as he had earlier in the day.

"Hey, I'm awake, I can walk." You protest lightly.

He just grunts, carrying you up the stairs to the bedroom. He's undisturbed by your gaze as you inspect his, now unmasked, face. You love looking at him, but he's usually more comfortable when the mask is on. You cherish moments like these, because they're so rare.

When you get to the bedroom you peer over your shoulder and see A new bed frame, 2 side tables, and a second dresser greeting you. This room was remodeled as well. Although still sparse, this place was really starting to look like home. It made you smile.

"What are you smiling for, love?" Ghost lays you down on the bed gently. Covering you with the duvet.

"The new furniture, I like it."

He chuckles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "I'm glad you do, seems that Gaz and Soap have good taste after all. I was a bit worried about sending them out for all of this, but I have to say I'm impressed as well." He looks around for a moment. Taking everything in.

"When did they find the time?" It was only 5 or 6 hours between the time that you got the photos to the time that you arrived at Ghosts home.

Ghost stood up and began taking off his shirt, getting ready for bed. "I called the team while you were in the shower this morning. Price pulled a couple of strings with a local moving company while Gaz and Soap went to the furniture store. Got it delivered and installed while you slept." He climbed into bed next to you.

You hummed in acknowledgement. "I'm going to have to thank them."

"They'll love that." The blankets rustle as he shifts, turning to spoon you. One arm draped over your waist. "But let's do it in the morning."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

In the morning Ghost makes you some slightly overcooked eggs and waffles. Soap and Gaz must have bought him new cookware, since you knew he hadn't had a waffle iron 3 days ago when you had last been here. You'd have to thank them for that too.

The light streamed in through the window as you stared into the steaming drink in front of you. Still groggy, Ghost was always the early riser of the relationship. He hummed lightly in the kitchen.

He turned to you and opened his mouth to talk just as a knock sounded at the door. A confused look flashed over his eyes. He wiped his hands off on the frilly pink apron he wore.(Something you were sure Soap had bought as a joke) "Let me go get that, stay right here." He clicked the stove off, removing the pan from the heat.

You nod, eyes still glazed over, making dazed eye contact with the steam rising from your mug. The sound of the door unlatching and a second man's voice at the door rouses you slightly. The sound of pen on paper further perplexes you. Was Ghost... signing for something?

Your question was answered quickly when he walked into the living room, in his arms was a sealed cardboard box. "Wonder what this is?" He checked the label and shook his head. "I don't recognize the return address. Maybe it's something Gaz and Soap had shipped to us, it is a local address." He shook the box lightly and nodded to himself, finding the sound adequate for whatever test he was conducting.

Soon he was ripping the cardboard open, not bothering with a knife, opting for his hands instead. He was an impatient man sometimes, you had to hide birthday and Christmas gifts until the last minute, otherwise he'd beg to open them before the big day.

Inside the box was... another box. This one a wooden rectangle with 4 little feet. A jewelry box maybe, but not one that would have matched the light stain decor that Soap and Gaz had chosen. No, this one had a tinged red color, with uneven lacquer and sharp lines where the brush had deposited too much pigment. Obviously hand built.

"This yours?" Ghost held it up to you and you felt your breath hitch in your chest again as you shook your head. "Hmm," was all he said. He set the box down on the counter as you both contemplated it.

"I think we should open it."

He sighed, "I agree."

You reached over and slid the box to you, lifting its latch and slowly prying it open. The hinges squeaked as you did, making you wince. Inside was a velvet lining topped with a necklace. A golden locket on a long chain. Your hands shook as you removed it from the box.

You fumbled, trying to pop it open. Finally handing it to Ghost after a couple of moments of struggle. He easily unlocked it and peered at the photos before holding it out to you.

On the left was a small photo of you, smiling in a group graduation photo. On the right was a strange photo of your stalker. It almost looked as if he had one LED shining directly up at his face. Like he was about to tell you a spooky story around a campfire. The picture came out intimidating due to the shadows stretching certain parts of his face and shortening others. He looked like a psycho.

"What the fuck." By the time you had processed what was in the package Ghost was already out the front door, searching for the delivery man. He was long gone though and Ghost wasn't willing to chance chasing him down... well more so he wasn't willing to leave you alone in the house, for fear your stalker would circle back for you while he was gone.

He walked back in, defeated. "We've got to find this guy."

"You're telling me. How the fuck did they find this place, let alone have time to mail a package?" You sunk your chin into your palm. Hand cupping your cheek.

Ghost sat on the stool next to yours. "I have my ideas. I'm going to send the footage from those trail cams in the front yard over to Price, he may be able to get a face off of them."

"Do you think the delivery guy and my stalker are the same person?" You turned your face to him. His brows were scrunched with heavy thought.

He rubbed his chin lightly, "maybe, or maybe the delivery man saw something. Either way it can't hurt to pen through the footage. If he knows my address, maybe he's been here before."

"Within the last couple of weeks? Wouldn't that mean that he followed us from my place?" Your stalker had never had this attention to detail before. This new approach was worrying to say the least.

Ghost turned and made intense eye contact, "it's likely."

Fuck. Your brain started buzzing, "I'm so sorry, God I should never have agreed to come here. Now your home is in danger too..." The edges of your vision start to darken as panic sets in for the second time in 2 days. "I should have told you sooner. Then you never would have been put in this situation."

"Now that's nonsense and you know it. I can take care of myself. I wouldn't have put myself in this situation if I couldn't handle it." He reached a hand to cover yours. "We're safe here. The 141 is already working on finding this person. We'll have him in no time and then everything will be back to normal."

His words were comforting, but did little to actually ease the root of your stress. "And what then? Do we even have the evidence to convict them? What if the police think that I'm crazy and let him go? I- I'm scared of what might happen if he gets away again. If he gets a reason to retaliate." You stand up, pushing the stool out behind you.

"Hey-" He reaches a hand out to you, but you take a step back.

"I'm scared Simon," you're struggling to control the shake in your voice. Tears are welling up in your eyes. "What if he never quits? I don't want to be running forever."

He lowers his hand, a wave of concern washes over his eyes. "This won't be forever, you're never going to have to run again. 141 and I will make sure of it, don't you worry. We're not going to let anything happen to you ever again."

You want to be comforted like yesterday. But that was when you thought Ghost and a couple of stupid cameras would keep you safe. That a set of floodlights would scare off some psycho with a sick obsession. But you knew your stalker, and he would follow you to the ends of the earth. The only things that would stop him was jail, and death.

"I'm going to go," tears were falling now. "I need to get out of here. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you Simon."

Ghost knew it was a bad idea, he knew you weren't thinking straight. But he also knew that he couldn't stop you. You were an adult, and you needed to be able to make these decisions for yourself. It was bright outside and the chances of someone trying to take you in broad daylight was slim. "OK, just please take a coat. And stick to the main roads."

You obliged him, taking your jacket from its hook on the wall and slipping on your shoes. Mind numb as you followed his orders. You grabbed your keys and stepped outside.

Ghost made no attempt to follow you through the cold morning air. No matter how much he wanted to.

It helped clear your head to be outside. Allowing you to really think for the first time since yesterday. You didn't know exactly where you were going. Heading vaguely in the direction of your apartment until you saw the bakery. It was closed, as it was a Sunday, but the familiar sight of it comforted you. Something normal.

You took another step towards it when a dark fabric bag was thrown over your head. A voice spoke in your ear. "Hi baby, did you miss me?" You screamed. Elbowing your assailant in the gut. Hard.

"Get the fuck off me you freak." The fingers holding the bag loosened just enough to pry them off. You ripped the now unrestrained bag from your head. Facing your attacker.

He looked just as you remembered. Unchanged since you were in school. Albeit, dirtier and greasier, as if he hadn't showered in days.

"Aww babe don't be that way, I know you missed me too." He held out his arms as if to hug you, but you noticed a taser in his left hand. His thumb on the button ready to strike.

You turned and ran. Tearing around the block like a bat out of hell. Taking off in the direction of Ghost's home once more. Your stalker was close behind, shouting a mixture of insults and praises. Begging you to stop, that he wouldn't hurt you, that he loved you... It made you sick.

The house was in sight, all the shades had been opened since you left. Ghost was looking out the big front one and rushed outside when he saw you. Booking it down the road towards you.

When he reached you he stopped, letting you run past and hide behind him. "You ok?"

"Not really."

He huffed, you had answered him at least and there wasn't time to say anything else. The stalker was already upon the both of you.

"Stay away. This is between me and my girlfriend." He had pulled out a small knife and was waving it around erratically.

Ghost stuck an arm behind him, making sure you kept your position pressed against his back. "She not your girlfriend, so fuck off." His voice was authoritative and hard.

The assailant froze, a huge smile breaking across their face. He made eye contact with you over Ghosts shoulder. "Are you cheating on me? With this idiot? What can he give you that I can't, huh?" He stared at Ghost again now. Inspecting him like a piece of meat. "I didn't realize you were so shallow. I bet this guy doesn't even have a personality. Not like me."

He began pacing back and forth in front of the two of you. Hands pressed to his temples, knife still in hand. "You were always vain. Never saw the potential in a nice guy like me. You're just a common slut, huh? Just a whore." He continued to mumble to himself as Ghost reached into his back pocket slowly. Pulling out his cell phone and handing it to you surreptitiously.

You grabbed it, unlocked it, and sent a text off to Gaz. He was the closest. It just read 'SOS, Ghosts house.' The phone made a 'text sent' sound. Which broke your stalker out of whatever trance he had been in.

"What was that?" He stared at you, rage clouding his eyes. Your whole body shook with fear. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" He was coming at you now. Knife held out threateningly in front of him.

Ghost took a small step forward. "Drop the knife. I don't want to have to hurt you."

"Hurt me? You can't hurt me!" The creep laughed, continuing towards the two of you.

"Get inside. Lock the door." Ghost gives your arm a small squeeze and a push towards the house. "NOW."

You take off in a sprint for the front door, which is still open. There's a sound of a commotion behind you but you don't stop until the door is firmly locked.

You reposition yourself near the window. Pulling out Ghosts phone and dialing 999. While you watch the two people struggle. Ghost fights dirty, using his size and skill against the smaller person. But your old coworker has the power and drive of a desperate man. Biting and clawing Ghost like a rabid dog.

You watch in anxiety, letting out a fearful gasp as he slams his knife into Simon's shoulder. He throws his head back and lets out a crazed cackle. Ghost grips the hilt in surprise but quickly drops his hand, choosing to fight without the arm, versus risking bleeding out.

"Come on Gaz..." You find yourself saying. Biting your thumbnail to the quick.

As if summoned, Gazs' mother's little electric car tears around the corner. He pulls haphazardly off the road and jumps out. Running over to back up Ghost, laying a solid punch to the stalkersl's temple before he can even register his presence.

Somehow he stays upright, swaying only slightly. "Fuck," you say to yourself. Ghost's right arm hangs limply beside him, fingers dripping with blood. His brow is furrowed in pain.

Gaz takes the forefront, landing another solid punch, right to the nose this time. This sets the stalker off balance, leaving him open to an attack from Ghost. Who kicks his right knee in, making him hit the ground. Hard.

Both men descend on the prone assailant. Gaz pressing his body into his. While Ghosts slides a pair of handcuffs out of Gaz's back pocket. Using his good hand to close the cuffs over your stalker's wrists.

Gaz continues to hold the struggling

man down until the cops and ambulance come. They take away the cuffed psycho, while he spits and swears all the way.

The EMTs begin to examine a thoroughly uncooperative Ghost. You watch from the window as he bats at their hands and attempts to walk away from them, back towards the house.

You stomp outside, "Ghost!" You walk over to him and grab his good arm right above the elbow. "Will you stop struggling? And God, don't you ever do something like that again. I was so fucking scared."

He laughs, "well that will be a little hard, I do this for a living after all." You unwrap your fingers from his bicep and let the EMTs continuing prodding him. One forces him to stand up, and ushers him into the ambulance.

"Are you his partner?" The other EMT asks.

You look at him, pausing, "oh, um, yes."

"Would you like to ride with us?" The woman asks.

"Oh-" You look back at Gaz, who is still talking to the cops. He catches your eye and gives you a thumbs up. "Yes, yes please."

She leads you to the back of the ambulance as well. Where Ghost is now laid on a stretcher, looking incredibly put out. "Hey, how are you feeling?" You ask him softly. Grasping his hand in yours.

"Like shit, and these tubes attached to me aren't helping." He raises the arm opposite to you, which is now filled with a couple IVs. He looks exhausted, but happy. His eyes are focused entirely on you. Searching your face for reaction like he always does. "How are you?"

You squeeze his hand again. "Im ok, better once I saw that creep in cuffs." You smile tiredly at him.

The ride to the hospital is largely uneventful. Once you get there you are greeted by another pair of cops who begin to ask you and Ghost questions about the stalking and the fight. They are kind and listen closely to you.

Over the few days that Simon allows the hospital to keep him (at your incessant begging) the whole of the 141 come to visit him, and a couple of old colleagues. Ghost is surprisingly well loved despite the no nonsense, grumpy attitude he gives off with his coworkers. They bring his lots of gifts you have to cart home, since his arm is in a sling when he's released. Once you get back home he spends a few days lazing around before getting back to the office.

You return to work the Wednesday after the attack, allowing yourself two days to recoup and settle Ghost into the hospital. So while you are at work, Ghost is thinking. Mostly about the future.

You come home the Friday after the attack to a pile of folded boxes on your porch and the sound of Simon grunting inside. You open the door and hear, "God, get off me. STOP IT." You rush in, not bothering to take off your shoes.

"Ghost?!" You turn into the kitchen and find him lying on the ground. A full grown German Shepherd licking his face.

He sits up, cheeks streaked with wet slobber, blushing bright red. "I- um. I got a dog?" He goes to stand but is knocked back onto his ass when the dog jumps on him again.

"A dog?" You ask, cocking an eyebrow at the big man on the ground, who is once again being covered in sticky kisses. You had both contemplated a pet before. Agreeing that neither of you had the time to train one. Let alone cover the amount of walks, feedings, and care one might need between your jobs.

"Umm yeah," he said, suddenly sheepish. "Mrs. Harold next door said she'd watch him while we're out. And he's already trained. Plus I have a yard... I figured we could use a household guardian, you know?" He was blushing again.

You smiled at him. This was a big decision, but one you could trust him to make on his own. Plus the dog was already growing on you. "What's his name?" You got down on your knees, beckoning the dog over to you.

"Riley." The dog looked to Ghost, who nodded. At Ghost's permission he bounded to you, sniffing every part of your body with his cold wet nose. Inspecting you and finding you agreeable, he begins licking your face and hands. Coating you in the same gross substance that Ghost had begun to wash off in the sink.

"I worked with him when I was still a corporal. He just got retired, an injury to his hip. He was a sniffer dog, never saw an active battle, so he's still gentle." He walks over and pats Riley's head slowly. Running his thumb over the small grey spots around the dog's brow.

"You share a name."

"We do," Ghost smiles at you. "He's a good dog... i'm sorry I didn't ask you first."

You look up at him, mouth twitching slightly. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little peeved... but-" Riley lays down and sets his head softly on your knee, sighing happily. "I can't say he hasn't grown on me already..."

You begin stroking the dog's head absentmindedly.

"He's a good dog."

"Yeah, he's a good dog."

You are completely content. Spending more and more time at Ghosts home over the next few weeks. Now that it's furnished you enjoy your time there. Your own small apartment is forgotten, except when you need a specific piece of clothing. It's not surprising to you when Ghost asks you to move in out of the blue one day.

You're having breakfast one morning when he looks up from his muffin. "When was the last time you went home?"

You look up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Why have I overstayed my welcome?"

"No, I was just wondering." He goes back to eating.

"Hmm..." You let it simmer for a moment before saying, "Because I can leave

"No! I- uh." He blushes. He'd been wearing his mask less often around the house, opting to keep the shades closed more instead. You were surprised at how much he blushed. "I was just thinking... maybe you could just... Move in?"

You made eye contact with him, surprised. Moving in was a big step. Sure you had been dating well over 2 years at this point. But he was away often, this was the first time he was home for more than one consecutive week since last Easter. Living apart always seemed easier with your different schedules.

He kept talking while you thought, "I was thinking that I could turn the office upstairs into a spare bedroom. I don't use the desk much anyways, and we have plenty of room downstairs for it. That way, if I get home late, I can just sleep in there and not wake you up." His fingers were tapping on the counter. A nervous tick he had picked up from Soap some months earlier.

You thought for a moment. Savoring another swig of tea. "Sure."

He stared at you in disbelief, "are you sure?"

You laughed, "i'm sure, I'm sure. I'd love to move in with you Simon Riley."

He beamed at this. By the next weekend you had sold most of your furniture. Finding people willing to haul the pieces down the stairs proved to be easy if the price was cheap enough, and you got to avoid hiring a moving truck. Everything else was boxed up and packed into the back of Ghost's Jeep with the help of Soap and Gaz.

It didn't take long for your house to feel like home. The threat of the stalker is largely forgotten. You got a couple updates over the upcoming months. He had plead not guilty, by reason of insanity. Being transferred to a 24/7 psychiatric care facility for the foreseeable future. At first this has disturbed you. But in the end you just decided that, as long as he was getting the care he needed. You didn't care. You were happy, and you wouldn't let this creep take that away from you ever again.

[david-talks-sw]

I'm reading through the book Star Wars on Trial and it's interesting. I completely disagree with almost everything I've read in it so far, but at least it's well-argued and written light-heartedly, it doesn't take itself that seriously.

The book is framed as a court hearing in which the prosecutor and defense attorney - both hilariously pompous and petty - debate their points and hear from witnesses. David Brin speaks for the prosecution, and Matthew Stover (author of the Revenge of the Sith novelization) speaks for the defense...

... and the thing is, I find myself disagreeing with both of them.

Example: Brin doesn't like or get the Jedi's rule of non-attachment, sees it as cutting off any and all relationships or emotions.

"In order to be a skilled and good and worthy warrior, you must cut yourself off from the very attachments that make a decent coworker, lover, spouse, parent and citizen. [...] One can understand demanding that a young adept avoid undue distraction while focusing hard on his training. But to cut off all thought of loved ones, even when they are suffering? Where is the "wisdom" in that?"

But when you look at his whole argument, at least it's clear that his real issue is with the narrative itself, he's disagreeing with (what he thinks is) Lucas' message regarding attachments.

What really surprises me, however, is Stover's response:

"One can hardly hold the Saga accountable for teaching that the "skilled and worthy warrior must cut off all attachments, etc." because this is explicitly defined in the Saga as the primary error of the Prequel-Era Jedi. With apologies to Opposing Counsel, he simply missed the boat here. That's all there is to it. Not only is that "cutting off all attachment" business defined as exactly what drives Anakin Skywalker to become Darth Vader, but it's precisely the error that Yoda is determined to correct by allowing Luke and Leia to be raised by real families."

His argument is "you misunderstood the narrative, the 'no attachment' rule is intentionally framed as bad."

I mean... no? It's not.

And, like... you know this @Matthew Stover. I know for a fact that you get what the whole "no attachments" deal is about and what the intended narrative is (not just because you spent an afternoon talking to George Lucas), because I've seen you explain it:

What he says in the above video perfectly aligns with the many comments Lucas made on the subject of attachment.

So what's with the 180° in Star Wars on Trial?

And, btw, that's how the whole book goes, so far.

First, the prosecution will nitpick by ignoring or misinterpreting the intended narrative, and point out something they don't like about the Prequels, eg: the Jedi as retroactively reframed by the Prequels, heartless, detached and callous.

The defense (who should know the narrative) will counter with "you're missing the point, it's supposed to be perceived badly because:

the Prequels are actually this subversive commentary about how the good guys are actually not that good,

Anakin was destined to wipe the Jedi out and the Sith to bring Balance to the Force

the Jedi's rules are dogmatic and Luke triumphs because he rejects them."

Instead of defending the message of the movies and standing up for it, he clearly implicitly agrees with the prosecution's argument and thus reframes the message by stating that the films actually agree with what the prosecution is saying.

Again, the arguments are interesting and well-researched in some cases, and I get that the whole book is playful in tone (the judge is a friggin' droid for crying out loud 😆) but I feel like if you're gonna defend your client, defend the damn client, right?

[bellshazes]

I was going to reply on your post about C vs CC distinction but I couldn't, so I hope you don't mind me asking here - my brain wasn't cooperating today so I was struggling to read it and comprehend it properly as written. But does it basically boil down to the fact that it's difficult to create a distinction between what's considered "character" vs "creator" in the digital medium Minecraft offers for storytelling? That there's no real way to draw a distinction between "this PERSON did this in the game" and "this CHARACTER did this in the story's world" because it's told on a platform and in a way that makes it hard to find a non-fuzzy divide, and that we shouldn't necessarily try to find that line anyway? Basically that - when it's so hard to define canon when "canon" is influenced by the person both on and beyond the screen, and interactions between "characters" are often colored by the creators behind them, and when the story being told is never really fully concrete anyway, it's just...better and, honestly, more fun to just enjoy the nondefinable art form for what it is? Because if that's what you're saying, I wholeheartedly agree. ^^

When the story's medium is a sandbox game, it's much more fun to interpret canon and its connected fanon as a sandbox too, something malleable and formable and explorable in a flexible way that doesn't rely on defined boundaries to be enjoyed. It's sand. You can make a solid sandcastle for a while, but eventually the water that packed it together dries and the wind blows and things shift again, because that's what sand does. Just - let sand be sand. :3

(And if I've totally misinterpreted then I apologize, it's been a long day and like I said, my brain's not cooperating hah.)

~ Pixie

I definitely didn't get back to my original point in that rambling reblog, so I think you've gotten what I was trying for up until the idea that the SMP Thing is nondefinable. I really struggle articulating this all the time and people often do take it the way you have, so it's a failure of explanation on my part...

It's not resolvable into a single truth, but currently the dominanf response to that is to throw the baby out with the bathwater and say if there is no canon, everything is equally true no matter what the text says, because the text is as (un)real and unknowable as my own imagination. I comprehend that this is very fun and believe this approach has absolutely no moral valence. often this evolves into annoying (imo!) fandom standards that become quasi-canonical due to sheer popularity in the group sandbox but whatever.

However my patented peter bellshazes perfect world involve not this kind of overwriting being a dominant fandom mode, but people taking the lack of One Single Master Story all other pieces fit into as a joyous invitation to pick apart all the threads on their own and how they relate without forcing them into anything and seeing them more clearly. It's to me like the difference between trying to force jigsaw puzzle pieces to fit that are from different boxes and - I don't know, like a complex 3D sculpture that is one object but portrays different images at every angle its viewed from. And people discovering that instead of taking photographs to find the One True Angle in 2D, walking around to examine the previously unstudied backside.

that's abstract but in practice it means like... idk treating it more like a vivisection. I love taking different perspectives apart as standalones, and also interrelating them, but finding joy and spaces to explore and discuss and feel through in those individual examinations, and not forcing them to make sense in some master truth. It makes me appreciate different approaches to the medium more, how tone and technique contribute beyond C!Cubito Is This Trait or whatever. I like it when people articulate if we think about THIS event and how it was shown in THIS way (in terms of acting/performance, editing, cuts made or not made, ) then the story is like this and what's in the gaps or what if it extended or what would it have looked like if different choices were made from a craft perspective or how does that contrast with or contextualizes a different series or scenario. throwing nothing out but never looking for a grand unified theory of truth.

Again no moral valence but i just feel like maybe if I can articulate my brand of fandom joy people might want to give it a try! and I genuinely appreciate people who care enough to try and parse what the hell I'm getting at bc it's almost always only when I try and answer questions that I feel like I get better at explaining what I was trying to say, so!

[squadrah]

From My CuriousCat

"What do you think La Squadra are like as parents?"

Risotto: On the one hand, he's a gentle giant and family is extremely important to him, so he would handle his children with great care and protect them at all costs. On the other hand, he is very reserved, to the point where he comes across as emotionally inaccessible.

Formaggio: Very physical and affectionate in his own playful, rough-and-tumble way. He's not above teaching his children funny swear words and phrases or how to fart with their arm pits, and can be too lax about things like messy rooms and bad grades.

Prosciutto: Pushes his children to be efficient, places too much emphasis on doing things properly, and can be very intimidating. Thankfully, he's also extremely supportive and motivational, and not unreasonable. Involves his children in hunting bullies for sport.

Pesci: There's a lot of trial and error as he keeps tone switching in the hopes of hitting the right one and sends mixed signals too often. In return, he is his children's biggest fan, and does his best to involve himself in their interests, even when he feels out of his element.

Ghiaccio: Often impatient and loud, can't read his children's tones well and sometimes misinterprets, and gets too worked up about the smallest things. However, he knows how to apologize, takes great pride in what his children do, and teaches them self-defense.

Melone: He can't involve himself too much with his children due to illness so he tends to hover on the phone, and his advice can be hit or miss, but he encourages self-expression, is lax about curfews, and his children can safely approach him with any kind of question.

Illuso: Torn between wanting to give his children the space and privacy he never had and being a nosy snoop who can't resist a locked diary, even if he'll go mad being unable to talk about it. Very understanding about quirks and personal possessions in general.

Sorbet: Somewhat distant, more out of respect for personal space and privacy than anything, and cannot feign interest and enthusiasm to save his life. Balances this by working hard so that his children have the means to do what they want, even if he doesn't get it.

Gelato: Entirely too doting and lenient, thinks bratty or naughty children are hilarious, and doesn't give a damn about privacy or personal space. Still, he can switch gears in the blink of an eye and swoop in to save, protect, lecture, or have a serious talk as needed.

[holllandtrash]

woah woah woah. i am the anon that sent that message and i have a bone to pick with you. first you completely ignore my apology after i have explained how you misinterpreted my words. then you go on to reply to others and spread false info?? FYI- i wasn’t referring to your tiktok, i’ve never even viewed your page bc it’s probably boring af. i was referring to the hundreds of posts on your tumblr. who do you think you are to talk to me like this? get over yourself you’re not a celebrity 💀

if you had come off anon and reached out to me privately or sent me a message, i would have loved to have a conversation with you and clear the air, but because you want to continue to hide behind the secrecy of a screen, i am going to respond to this publicly and i am going to break down my response so no one gets their feelings hurt.

"i am the anon that sent that message and i have a bone to pick with you." this is not how you start a conversation with anyone, and if you are looking for respect here, you're not getting it by starting off like that.

"first you completely ignore my apology after i have explained how you misinterpreted my words." if you had looked at my recent post, you would have seen I put out a general thank you to those who did send kind words. i did not respond to every single one, or any of them for that matter (except 1) because as mentioned, i was taking a short little break from tumblr and did not want to read my inbox. by the time i did go to look at what people had sent me, i skimmed the inbox and realised that a lot of them had some not so nice things to say about you and your message and the last thing i wanted was more negativity on my page, regardless of who it was directed at. for your benefit, i kept those messages in the inbox. i put out one general thank you because this situation was something i wanted to move on from.

also this was your apology:

no where in that message is a proper explanation as to what you were referring to when you said "u need to write more fanfics instead of giving your opinions."

also what if i didn't accept your apology? i don't owe it to you to respond if i don't want to.

"then you go on to reply to others" i replied to one person because the first sentence in their message caught my eye. that user is from italy, more specifically the region that is affected by the flooding and i wanted to share with them they were in my thoughts and i hoped they were safe.

"and spread false info??" FYI- i wasn’t referring to your tiktok, i was referring to the hundreds of posts on your tumblr. what false info? yes, i admit, maybe i did jump to assume you were referring to my podcast/tik tok and what i had said about imola, but in my defence, why would someone come on my blog and tell me to not post on my blog? that doesn't make any sense at all, and again, it's just rude. maybe you meant it as a joke, (you didn't, we know that now) but you need to understand that you cannot go into someone's inbox and say things like that. people are allowed to post what they want on their blogs. if you just wanted to read their work, there's a good chance they have a masterlist you can scroll through to avoid the rest of their posts.

"i’ve never even viewed your page bc it’s probably boring af." please see exhibit a: you saying you love my page and my podcast (which is the exact same as my tik tok). so you're being dishonest in one of those messages. also, i can assure you it's not boring. if it were boring, i wouldn't have been invited to texas or toronto to work with other creators, but i totally understand if my content is not something you want to watch or listen to. it's not for everyone, but it's also certainly not boring.

"who do you think you are to talk to me like this?" this is what i said:

you are quite literally the one who sent me a message with the underlying tone that said "talk less, write more" and you are not the first person to send me a message like that, your message was simply the one that pushed me over the edge and i had to say something. you are the one who came to my page and said "u need to write more fanfics instead of giving your opinions." so let me ask you, who do you think you are, talking to me like that? those paragraphs i put out were, yes, for you but also for the dozens of other people who think its fair to tell people to write more. if you saw that and got personally offended because you thought it was a message that resonated with you and what you had said, that's on you.

"get over yourself you’re not a celebrity" never said i was babes, i'm just a human being. i will stand up for myself and share my opinions and i believe you have been extremely disrespectful. i've done nothing wrong. my inbox is still open, as are my messages, if you would like to come off anon and have a real conversation. but until you understand that there is a way to talk to people and how spoke to me is not it, i fear you may not get the respect you desire.

as per your most recent message:

i don't believe you're sorry for the outburst, but i do believe it was sent in frustration and haste. again, if you had reached out to me privately and off anon, this whole thing could have been avoided. thank you for liking my writing, i am not apologising for anything i said or for my personality as you seem to be the only one who has a problem with it. if you would like to unfollow me, i understand, but please, don't leave any more messages for any more writers that implies 'talk less, write more'.

thank you

[lake-archive]

Chapter 8 - Observations Of A Third Wheel

AO3 Link

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters (main): Eula Lawrence, Ann von Lupus (OC), Amber

Series: They Say I Shouldn't, But...

Pairing: Eulann (Eula/Ann)

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

It took a little bit of convincing but Amber had managed to get through Ann after all in this conversation. She accepted after a few more tries which was progress. It seems that she might need help for the first step so Amber was ready to provide said help! And thus a simple yet hopefully effective plan formed quickly. It was pretty straight forward – Amber would invite Eula over for dinner at Good Hunter where Ann was supposed to wait. There the trio would sit down and hold a conversation. That way Ann can asks all the questions she wants while getting to know Eula herself! It was the perfect setup and it should go smoothly like this! Well… Not exactly… If it only were that simple… 

Because shortly after arriving, sitting down and making their orders there was silence, literal silence. Amber’s gaze wandered back and forth, just eyeing the two women carefully and the sight… Wasn’t what she had hoped for. Well, she wasn’t expecting a lively atmosphere from the get go. A warm up would be necessary of course! But it was honestly worse than that. Had something been going on between the two, something Amber was not aware of? Actually, come to think of it, Eula had also reacted strangely when spotting Ann. Her glare was a little sharper than usual. A gaze indicating familiarity yet a form of anxiousness. Yet one could also misinterpret that as deadly intent. 

Ann probably interpreted it as such, given that she was a mess by the time spotting the two. Nervous as usual yet also stuttering and shaking a little, even having taken her seat extremely slowly, trying to avoid eye contact. The only sentence between the two which had fallen was “Would you quit not looking at me already!? This is starting to get pathetic!” from Eula, making the author look at the knight. And it has been silent ever since, a silence not even Amber was able to take. The air was beyond awkward, the silence unbearable. So it was up to her to break it.

“S… So… How about you two introduce yourselves to one another? You haven’t done that yet, right?” Amber decided to suggest, just so that they would say something… Anything really. It took a little bit but it was eventually met with a nod on both ends, even if one had been more hesitant than the other.

“I… didn’t do that yet, right… Apologies. I… should have… done that earlier.” the young author mumbled, her soft spoken tone rather obvious in between all the stuttering. “I’m Ann von Lupus, It’s ni—”

“Wait, did you just say ‘von Lupus’?” Eula interrupted almost instantly, her gaze seeming to become at least a little softer. Not by much but it was something, wasn’t it? Though she was genuinely surprised all the same. “You’re one of them?”

“Y… Yeah?” Ann blinked for a few moments, as if she had not expected this in any way.

“So you’re the daughter who ran off doing her own thing. Should’ve taken a guess .” Eula commented. 

“I… didn’t run off! I got permission from my parents! Honest!” Ann said quickly, almost under her own breath… Yet still slow enough that her words were still audible. “I just—”

“I ask for a justification.” Eula said. She didn’t mean it like that, Amber was certain of it. And yet, it made Ann nearly freeze which called for an interference.

“Ah, she just means that you don’t need to explain yourself. You have your reasons, right?” The outrider explained, trying to calm the young woman down. Did it work? To some degree maybe. Even if it earned Amber a quick glare as well. But she was used to it.

“R… Really?” Ann asked, just to make sure.

“Hah, yes… I’ll have my vengeance on you sometime Amber.” The bluenette sighed yet continued shortly after. “You seem to have gotten too accustomed to a commoner’s lifestyle. Given your manners…”

“S… Sorry. I don’t mean to…” The author apologized, fumbling around in her own seat a little by then. “B… But enough about me! It’s not that interesting to begin with! I… would like to hear more about you instead!”

It seemed this had caught Eula’s attention, her gaze becoming the softest it has been in a long time. She even tilted her head for a moment and she was nothing but surprised when hearing this. Was it really that unexpected? “About me?” She asked, almost confused. 

It was met with a nod however. “Y… Yeah! I just think… Well… I guess since I have been given the opportunity I can’t waste it, right?”

“I know what you said that time but–” That time? So the two had been interacting before! Talk about missing out on a lot! Then again, Eula had been spacing out more than often, or so Amber had heard. But was Ann the cause? Hard to say. But given the tension at the beginning… It was at least a possibility, wasn’t it?

“It’s fine, it's fine! I have a reason for that actually!” Ann interrupted quickly, trying to keep calm the entire time. “I… Hope it doesn’t sound weird but… I would like to base my latest protagonist off you Miss Lawrence!”

Oh the disbelief in Eula’s face… It was impossible to describe. Yeah, that was an actual shock this time. “Pro… Protagonist!?” She even repeated, matching her current expression.

“Th… This sounds weird, doesn’t it? Sorry, please for—”

“I understand you less and less by the second.” The knight sighed, shaking her head. “Is this a ploy against me? If so, know that I won’t take this lightly! I will have my vengeance should you play a trick on me!”

“It’s not! I promise!” And Ann was getting more uneasy, a little confused herself, perhaps taking this literally. Then again, maybe she just had to get used to this first. “If… You don’t want to that’s fine! I will ju—”

“Fine, if you speak the truth I am ready to answer. But keep your eyes on me! And sit properly, will you!? And no stuttering!”

“Y… Yes Miss La—”

“And just call me by my name. You’re making me feel old.”

A quick nod. “Y… Yeah.”

But it was a start. Who knew an introduction could lead to them starting to slowly get along? Regardless, Amber was satisfied. A job well done! And the two broke the ice properly, didn’t they? Probably compared to whatever had been going on earlier. What a relief!

But… To say that both women forgot about the outrider’s presence was an understatement. She quickly became the third wheel on this dinner date… ‘ Yeah, this is not just for a story… ’

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

[towelclips]

(@metamorphosis-ask)

Transcribed the newspaper from the most recent Metamorphosis ask blog post! (+some thoughts)

Wednesday, August 7th, 2019

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Gildedville Times

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HERO SCRAMBLES REPTILE IN EGG-CITING FIGHT

At 11 am today, the notorious Reptile attacked Eggs Only Cafe, the beloved local cafe that sells eggs only products.

The cafe has been in business for two years now and has received very high ratings from all of its patrons. A startup by two brothers who had a dream to create the city's first egg based restaurant, Eggs Only Cafe has carved out quite the slice of popularity for itself.

However, today, all that was threatened by one familiar antagonist: The Reptile.

Gildedville's very own supervillain entered the shop at peak brunch hour. According to eye-witness reports, he approached the front counter and apologized to the staff "in a very sarcastic and insulting tone" before proceeding to assault customers and drive them out of the establishment.

Read more: page 3

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Another acquisition for Titan Health: Why branch into transportation?

Clyde's Rides isn't the first company to be brought (or bought) into Titan Health's arsenal. Other such notable companies as Golden Age Medical Research

(the rest is cut off)

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MISSING

LAST SEEN: 4/13/2012

(the rest is cut off)

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So! I'll just go in order of things listed! First of all, I find the date interesting, dunno if it has any significance, but might as well point it out .

Second, some neat lore! Idk why you'd want to make a restaurant that sells only egg products, but I'm biased (pretty picky about my eggs, and generally don't like em). I also wonder what Reptile was up to with the sarcastic apology and such, maybe he was being genuine and the staff misinterpreted it? (I feel ya there buddy)

Third thing in the article is mostly cut off, but I already get bad vibes from the mega corporation...

LASTLY BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST! There's a missing person thing! We don't get a name or a face, as the rest of the page is cut off, but I wonder if they have some relation to Reptile's origins (I could totally see some scummy corporation (maybe Titan Health?) kidnapping someone to create a villain if it'd benefit them in some way).

[neurotheascars]

Re: the post about bullying people on misspellings and reading comprehension and such.

no real, I’m the person people talk about when they say dyslexia

(I have all the other ones too, dysgraphia, dyscalclia, dyspraxia too)

And so my reading comprehension and also spelling is kinda trash, not in a bad faith way but in a “I genuinely completely missed like a whole paragraph” way.

which just sucks, I’m still extremely new to the whole “writing” thing.

genuinely if you saw something from a couple years ago vs now you’d be flabbergasted at how much we’ve improved.

but I always thought it was extremely rude to bully and or be mean about people who don’t understand or read things right or write things right.

you just genuinely do not know who they are and why they do it, whenever I try to correct someone I say it kindly and give constructive feedback.

Like genuinely it’s not hard to be kind, some people are still learning, sometimes it’s someone’s second language, sometimes they use speech to text and text to speech.

it’s just such a deeply ingrained belief that anyone who misspells or misspeaks or misunderstands is dumb or stupid.

I can’t even count on my fingers how many times I’ve misheard, worded something trash, or misunderstood or misinterpreted something.

but that’s just how I am and I can’t change it, but I can change my reaction and outcome and make friendships even after fucking up.

it’s just a sad feeling that even if you have the best intentions you still fail horribly, subtext and tone are hard to parse through, so much meaning and context gets a bit screwy when you write it down.

and sometimes life is filled with mistakes and failures and there’s nothing wrong with that, I can’t know everything and I probably never will.

I love the quote

“a jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one.”

because yeah, I’ll never be a master at English or talking or anything.

but I can be a jack of all trades, I can try to learn and be better.

more skills even though I’m not a master at any, helps so much.

We beat ourselves up and others for things we can’t control rather than lift ourselves and others up.

that’s just my thoughts on it, I just didn’t want to add it on the main post it’s pretty unrelated to the original lol.

-pop

You are so very nice to write all this pop. Sorry I take a bit to respond. The system has been super busy.

The "trouble" that I mentioned in the tags that I got into was when I said I unfollowed someone for being rude about reading comprehension and had a complete stranger come out of nowhere and correct me like I was talking about them when I wasn't and then when I said I wasn't and was frustrated that people apparently do this enough to assume unrelated call outs about it are vagues about them, they acted like I was "rude" and like...

I'm an alter that has slammed doors hard enough to crack walls. I've said such utterly fucked things. I am trying my hardest, my best, to be nice when I'm upset. I have come so far and it hurts. I use all my energy when I do it. Tumblr is almost like a kind of language thinking therapy for me. It's a good place to practice being as polite as I can, because it's safer to fail online as opposed to IRL, where backspace and walk away are not options.

To try as hard as I did and still be called rude is... Ugh. It's just awful. Especially when it was an otherwise cool blog that said that about me. They even said on their blog separately if another alter apologized on my behalf that they'd be friends with them and just avoid me.

And that's actually trauma for me! That kind of thing seriously destabilizes my system. I've had people literally abuse my system by manipulating us like that and talking about me, calling me an asshole like I can't hear. But I get that that's just a mistake too.

It's all mistakes!

I think the world would be a better place if more mistakes were seen as harmless.

Also I vibe with the jack of all trades bit. We definitely as a system feel that.

[maxphilippa]

You know, for someone constantly ranting about the bad side of the II fandom, you spread a lot of negativity yourself. Especially when it comes to shipping and character interpretation, because apparently no one’s allowed to accidentally overlook any part of a character or see humanity in characters who are morally wrong and know it.

Honestly, I know almost nothing about the bad side of the II fandom, but I’m pretty sure there’s more to it than an admittedly questionable but popular ship and people not writing the characters how you see them. Which at least in my opinion, isn’t actually bad but just normal fandom that happens everywhere

Ironically for an artist, I think most of your recent posts have just been about this kind of stuff. What happened to the you that made one of best AUs in II Fandom?

Sincerely,

A Concerned Fan

. anon. the thing that happened was that I stopped repressing myself and my thoughts when it came to the fandom itself. i never said that people aren't allowed to unintentionally/accidentally overlook certain things or that they can't see humanity on morally wrong characters, what i did mean to do is to encourage people to study the characters more and to try to think out of the black/white bad/good perspective, and to understand that complex characters aren't all the same and that every single character is more than just an stereotype, to actually try to look deeper for the characters other than for shipping reasons. to actually try to get the series for what it's worth and to not ignore parts that are canon of it.

i've been on the bad side of the ii fandom for months and honestly, i cannot talk about a lot of things about it because it would get me buried alive, because harassment and death threats by some of the people around here are things that happened to one of my friends and to me too. i am not mentally ready to try to cover all of that yet but you are right on me being more negative lately, and meanwhile i do have my reasons for it (been harassed, saw how my friend struggled for months to recover from all the harassment she got on the fandom), things that ultimately hurted me deeply.

so i bring up the things that also cause those problems and such, going against popular hcs is a big thing still and it kind of sucks a lot. i've been more tired lately considering how the fandom appears to have gotten worse on those aspects, which ultimately drains my energy, and seeing a thing that you love being treated like it can only work if you change everything, seeing something that you love being misinterpretated but not seeing people try to at least analyze it or get it, it. sucks. it makes you feel tired. because you really love that media, but the negative part of the fandom is so strong that it affected you, even though you still very much love the media itself.

and it does hurt but also.

but i am sorry that i got too caught up on it too. i can't say that it's going to get calmer with time because it's still affecting me and my friends, but I genuinely do want to bring with time a more positive look on things. yet my tone when it came to those things wasn't the best one and i apologize for that too. i genuinely don't want people to think that i am saying "you aren't allowed to make mistakes", i did a lot of them! a lot of mistakes! and that's okay!!! everyone makes mistakes. what i want people to do is to try and learn more about the media on general because it is good and i really want people to look more on the media than rather just settle for the fanon!!!

. oh and also i am just. angry with the fandom. it's not an "oh i just think they're like this" my issue with the way people treat ii and it's characters is that they do twist them way too much to the point it feels terribly ooc and it feels like people don't really. I am all up for interpretations genuinely and I encourage them!!! But I want people to understand the media so the interpretations actually feel. You know. On character. To not depend on the fanon. and i'd really like it if the fandom became more accepting of others and to be more open about things. and to maybe not be so extreme when people say that they don't like a popular thing too? there is a lot to fix here buttttt that is something the community itself has to work on. absorbing too much of it's negativity hurted on a personal level

And I am still here, I don't know which AU you're talking about but I genuinely do appreciate that you consider that I made "one of the best II AU's", and please do not be concerned. It's been rough lately but I can assure you that I'll be okay. It's easier to focus on the negative part but also, focusing on it too much has made me more grumpy lately and I really do want to talk more on why I love II and make content of it. Thank you for sharing your worries too anon. I'll take that on count. :]♡

[rodismancave]

26, 28, 43

Weirdly specific but helpful Character building questions

26. How would they respond to being fired by a good boss?

If it’s a good boss as in— a fun boss, one he feels comfortable around and has formed a friendship with, he’d probably assume they’re joking and come around the next day. All “What do you mean I’m fired? Not if I have a say about it, good luck getting rid of me.” Absolutely can talk his way into simply not being fired if he’s been working long enough. If it’s just a good boss, then well. If they’re firing him, they weren’t that good.

28. What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?

Rodimus has a lot of conflicting interests in my minds eye. He’s a very strange guy(tm). I’d say, mostly, he wants people he cares about to be happy and to feel cared for. He wants to thrive off that happiness, and he’ll be 100% honest when he responds with that.

However, I think, deep down, he just really wants people to at least try to understand and be patient with him, even if he’s not exactly vocal or extremely open about it. He’d like to feel like he’s cared about, too. Only sometimes, though. It’s not like there’s a longing in there— promise.

43. What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding?

Romantic displays of affection. He’s a very touchy guy. He enjoys touching people: a light touch to someone’s back while he’s passing through, to let them know he’s there, hands to someone’s hips for the same reason (but when trying to pass through them in a small space, especially if they’re taller than him), a hand to someone’s shoulder while talking, a sudden hug or an arm around someone, a kiss to the cheek. He doesn’t mean anything malicious or inherently romantic, he’s just Like That, because he enjoys touching and being touched and he likes that warmth that comes with it. So if someone is trying to be particularly touchy for flirtatious reasons, he probably won’t get it. And if someone assumes he’s being touchy to be flirty, or to show interest, they’re in for some really awkward staring. A common thing, too, is for him to use the wrong tone in a sentence and end up sounding rude/loud without really meaning to.

He’ll apologize if the misunderstanding involves something in the heat of the moment(touching someone who does not wish to be touched), but if the misunderstanding is something that frustrates him he’ll most likely ignore it until he is ignored enough or until he eventually explodes in frustration and says something mean/stupid. He’ll rarely apologize during those bursts, because that’s embarrassing.